


Commonplace

by acey_olie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Casual hooking up, Depression, F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation, Minor Illness, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Not totally Cursed Child Compliant, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Supposed to play on cliches, i don't know how to tag, implied depression, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-21 13:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12459192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acey_olie/pseuds/acey_olie
Summary: Rose Weasley is sick of trying to keep her head down. She'd had enough of everything; of the rumours, the lies, the truths... So why should she even care anymore? Or the cliche tale of Rose Weasley's life.





	1. Unwell

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first chapter of this two years ago but I'm working on it again. Also this doesn't follow the Cursed Child canon. I wrote this before the Cursed Child and, to be honest, I wasn't completely happy with the play.  
> Also, the idea of this came from a conversation about movie cliches - this story is supposed to follow those cliches while I try to make them not so shitty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hold on  
> Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown  
> And I don't know why  
> But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell"  
> \- Unwell (Matchbox 20)

With a deep sigh Rose flopped down on the red plush seat of the Prefect's carriage closest the window, tossing her worn down leather messenger bag under the seat as she stretched her legs out in front of her, savouring the few minutes of silence she would get before the other prefects entered the carriage with her.

Even in the safety of the Hogwarts Express Rose could hear the excitement of the families outside, chattering enthusiastically and crying goodbyes. Rose merely shook her head and rested it against the window behind her, eyes closed as she attempted to block out the background noise. She never understood why goodbyes took so long. When it came to her it was easy; simply say goodbye and give her parents a hug and reluctant kiss before boarding the train without looking back to avoid any sadness. Easy.

"Oh, Rose!" The Gryffindor girl opened her eyes slowly, raising her head to be met with the all-too-familiar face of Archie Cardiff staring at her with wide eyes. He took a step further into the carriage and shut the door behind him. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"I was a perfect last year, Archie," Rose said flatly, removing her feet from the seats beside her. Archie took the seat directly opposite her, muttering something under his breath. "Usually those who are prefects in their sixth year are prefects in their seventh."

"I thought you had your..." Archie trailed off, pressing his lips together as he stared at his feet in embarrassment. Clearly, he hadn't meant to say it.

"Badge taken off me?" Rose asked. Archie nodded once. "Rumour." Rose shrugged and stretched her arms behind her head. "Not surprising really."

"So, any idea who the Head Boy and Girl are this year?" Archie asked after a moment of awkward silence, running a hand through his dark hair as he watched Rose uncomfortably before pulling off the black beanie with the words 'DOPE' written on the front and putting it back on the way he liked. His dark blue eyes shone as they met Rose's pale ones.

Rose made a noise in the back of her throat and shrugged. "I thought you would be Head Boy, to be honest. You seemed to be the only good candidate." Archie chuckled embarrassedly and mumbled a 'thank you' as a small blush made its way on to his otherwise clear face. Rose kicked her bag from under the seat and added, "I don't know about Head Boy, but I'm Head Girl."

Archie opened his mouth as if about to question her, but Rose pulled the small red badge out of her bag pocket and showed it to him and he closed his mouth, sinking into the seat with a displeased look on his face.

Rose grinned smugly, pocketing her badge and returning her bag under her seat with a sharp kick. Usually, she wasn't as rough with her bag. "I can assure you a lot of people will feel the same way, Archie." Archie looked as if he were about to speak again, but the carriage door opening seemed to distract him as he watched the small group of several sixth years enters with their heads down.

Archie gave them a warm smile, welcoming them in and offering them a seat before introducing them to Rose.

"Aren't you the one they call the 'Gryffindor Slut'?" One of the sixth years, a brown haired and green eyed Ravenclaw, asked as she took a seat beside Archie. One of her friends slapped her arm but before he could say anything he was interrupted by something louder than him. Albus Severus Potter.

"Hey! Watch what you say about my cousin!" Rose rolled her eyes as he strutted into the carriage, glaring down at the sixth years. Albus hadn't changed since the last time Rose saw him over six weeks before. His hair was the same black, his eyes the same green and his face the same freckled mess. He had grown, maybe an inch or two, but otherwise remained the same as he was the last time Rose had seen him when they left Hogwarts. "Although she hasn't spoken to me in six, maybe even seven weeks, so Merlin knows why I'm sticking up for her because she is practically a stranger now!"

Rose snorted and shook her head as Albus sat down beside her, nudging the girl with his elbow and a wide grin. "Good to see you too, Al."

"So why haven't you called me in forever?" Albus demanded, waving a quick hello to his friend - Archie - before returning his attention to his cousin.

"I've been... busy." Rose scrunched up her nose at her feeble excuse, watching Albus' reaction apprehensively. Albus snorted at her expression and began the seemingly endless tale of everything he did over the time Rose had not seen him.

Truthfully, however, Rose had done nothing over the previous six and a half weeks. Her time was spent with her cat, Dante, and her many, many books. Usually, she would spend every moment of her time with her cousins, but none of them even noticed Rose beginning to pull away from them until they were face-to-face with her once again like Albus was in that moment. Rose tried to ignore the way her chest tightened at the thought. After all, why would her cousins care that she saw them less and less? At least they didn't have to deal with her dramatics anymore.

Distracted by her thoughts and pretending to listen to what Albus said she didn't notice the last of the prefects, new and old, entering the carriage until someone kicked her foot gently.

"Are you with us, Rosie, dear?" Rose rolled her eyes at the almost-platinum haired boy who stared down at her, muttering a snarky comment under her breath to Scorpius Malfoy. "I was just thinking of poor Albus who honestly thought you were listening to his deathly boring tale of what I can only interpret as his entry to the world of mass orgies and a rather disturbing tale of sexually assaulting a pigeon with your ridiculously large family."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Rose asked, tone monotonous as she glared half-heartedly at the boy before her.

"While you were locked in that twisted mind of yours and pretending to listen to your cousin we were trying to figure out who out Head Girl was. Cardiff over there has the delusion that it's you." Scorpius said in one breath, drawing the attention of all the other prefects in the carriage, all of which had quietened down and began listening to the Slytherin boy talk. Rose raised an eyebrow, meeting his pale blue eyes with her own darker blue ones as the boy ran his fingers through his almost-platinum blonde hair. The girls who had insulted Rose before giggled at the small movement, making the Slytherin boy grin wider.

"I mean McGonagall must have had a moment of insanity to appoint you Head Girl." He continued. Rose lifted her hand and gestured for him to come closer to her with her index finger. Scorpius took a step forward and leaned down ever so slightly. With a smirk, Rose tossed the small red badge from her pocket at the boy in front of her. Scorpius fumbled with it for a moment before inspecting it, his mouth dropping as he confirmed what the badge said out loud.

"Clearly McGonagall is crazy." Behind Malfoy, the other prefects muttered under their breaths, incoherent comments that were without a doubt negative about their new Head Girl.

Before Rose could open her mouth and ask for her badge back it landed on her lap. She picked up the small badge, expecting it to be her own. Instead, she was met with an emerald green badge identical in shape and size to her own but with the words 'Head Boy' written in silver on the front.

"What poor boy did you steal this from, Malfoy?" Rose scoffed, throwing the badge back to the Slytherin boy. He caught it easily unlike Rose, quickly pocketing it before tossing Rose's badge back to her and sinking into a seat next to Archie after gesturing for the sixth years that sat there to move.

"Very quick, very funny." Scorpius applauded sarcastically, smirking at the Gryffindor girl as he leaned forward in his seat. "Very... witty, Rosie, dear."

Rose sat forward where she sat, licking her lips deliberately and watching the boy with a small smile, one that Roxanne tried to convince Rose was alluring and always misused, like then for example. "How about you just get on with the whole telling everyone what to do and stop staring at me, Scorpius?" He rolled his eyes at the question but listened anyway. He told everyone what to do when they got off the train and when they're first real meeting would be and, of course, what was expected of them now that they were prefects.

"That's about it unless Weasley wants to add something?" Scorpius shot Rose a look which she shrugged at, shaking her head at his questioning gaze. "You can go and join your friend's carriages or stay here, but remember what you need to do when we arrive at Hogwarts." Most of the people rose to their feet and exited the carriage, leaving about a quarter of the prefects remaining the carriage.

Rose didn't speak for the remainder of the journey. Instead, she read Ulysses, which she had specifically bought for the train journey as she listened to her cousin flicker between gushing over Archie Cardiff (Rose swore Albus had the biggest guy-crush on the Hufflepuff boy) and getting annoyed at Scorpius' insults.

No one spoke to her. Neither Albus or Scorpius humoured her with insults or question or tedious conversation. It was just as she wanted it. But the closer they got to Hogwarts the more restless people got and the more they became reminded of who Rose Weasley was and what she had done in the years previously. And the more she noticed the comments. The sixth-year girls started to chatter about her, whispering under their breaths quiet enough so it could be classed so but loud enough so Rose could hear them. They were in a small carriage after all.

It got under her skin though, the looks and laughter. She had learnt to ignore them and hold her head high for the most part, but there were still the moments where each comment made Rose feel like she was ready to break down, as if holding her head high in spite was no longer worth it and she should just give in and show them how weak they had made her. But she never did.

When they got to Hogwarts Rose did as she was supposed to, showing First Years where to go with other prefects. Once she had finished and ensured all the First Years were on the boats she got on a 'horseless' carriage along with a few of the other prefects and sat in blissful silence. The sorting ceremony was wearisome as always, clapping and clapping again at every First Year that got sorted in Gryffindor although Rose couldn't care less about them in that moment. She sat alone, trying to enjoy the sorting ceremony and ignore the whispers and looks that her 'peers' gave her. But it was hard.

Hogwarts was once as magical and wonderful as Rose had been told. Everything was interesting and everything was new, which to children between eleven and fourteen years of age was miraculous. She had friends and her family spoke to anyone that spoke to her and walked down the corridors Rose had become accustomed to over the years. It didn't last long.

When Rose was in her third year she started dating Dylan Brown as a dare, but as the months past, she found herself actually liking the Hufflepuff boy. Cliche as it sounds, Rose and Dylan were an item for a year and in that year Rose was the happiest she had been in her years at Hogwarts. She might have loved him; she never told him although he had said those three words to her an abundance of times. She often thought maybe if she had said back, even if she didn't mean it completely at the time if things would be different.

Halfway into their fourth year Rose and Dylan became more distant. He claimed it was due to the amount of work and Rose never had any reason to doubt him.

"Quidditch requires so much time too and I wish I could take it from school work I can't. I have to pace myself which means I have to reduce my time with you, Rosie." He had explained, taking Rose's hand in his own and swinging it back and forth. Rose said she understood and that it was okay. Dylan had complimented her and said he loved her. Rose distracted him with a quick kiss and allowed Hufflepuff boy to go to Quidditch practice.

As it turned out 'Quidditch practice' was actually Caitlin Barne from Ravenclaw.

Rose left the common room to go speak to Professor Longbottom - her godfather - about the Herbology essay he had set (and getting an extension on it to go see her family) when she stumbled upon the two of them.

"You know you're fourteen, right?" She had asked in reference to Dylan's hand which was up Caitlin's shirt and fondling her chest and Caitlin's hands which were fumbling with Dylan's trouser button. The two of them jumped apart and Dylan attempted to explain himself to Rose, but she merely rolled her eyes and punched him in the jaw.

It had hurt, Rose remembered. The pain shot through her arm and she cursed loudly, clutching her hand. It wasn't like it seemed in films where you punch someone and walked away feeling empowered. It hurt. Punching Dylan wasn't satisfying and it wasn't painless, physically or emotionally.

After that people were cautious of Rose, either remaining a few steps back in fear that she would punch them too or whispering gossip or warnings in the ears of whoever was close enough to them. She tried to ignore them, but it proved harder the first time. She cried frequently, cursing her decision to punch Dylan in that moment but never regretting it. She still maintained that it was one of the best things she had ever done.

After that Rose developed a reputation which had been misinterpreted. Rose had a few boyfriends after Dylan - Marcus Finnigan, Carl Defoe and Spencer Jefferies - and each one was worse than the one before.

Marcus Finnigan was a Gryffindor and was best friends with Dylan. He was kind at first, apologizing for how his friend treated her and voiced his disgust in cheaters. He was a sweet boy at first. It took almost three months before he was in the arms of Bethany Howell.

Carl Defoe was a blind-date that Lily Potter - Rose's cousin - had set up. He was Hufflepuff and one of the best Chasers Rose had ever seen. They went out for a few months before he cheated on her too with Louis, Rose's other cousin. In Louis defense, he did not know that Rose and Carl had gone out a couple times and immediately stopped going out with Carl.

Finally came Spencer Jefferies. Spencer was a Gryffindor and had an unhealthy obsession with 'The Breakfast Club', which was one of Rose's favourite films. However, he was compulsive and thought Rose belonged to him. He would shout at her for being late, would follow her when she was with her friends and cousins and would hold on to her wrist slightly too hard. She always downplayed the bruises to her brother and cousins. Spencer was the only other boy she punched.

Between the four of them, they made up many outrageous rumours about Rose. And, of course, the rumors spread to make a malicious reputation for Rose Weasley.

_"Did you know she's into BDSM?"_

_"I heard she was gay."_

_"Apparently she also fucks for pay on the side."_

_"Did you know...?"_

_"Have you heard...?"_

_"Rose Weasley is..."_

It was never-ending. Even two years later the rumors haunted Rose.

She shut herself out from everyone, her friends and family included. Some like Albus and Roxanne tried to speak to her, but Rose shrugged them off for the most part. She didn't speak to anyone unless it was required. But she held her head high and pretended as if the whispers and glances didn't bother even though each laugh cut through her skin and each set of eyes burnt her flesh.

"Welcome back for another wonderful year to those we know!" The familiar voice of Professor McGonagall distracted Rose from the melancholy memories that had invaded her mind once more. "And to all the First Years, I am Professor McGonagall, Headmaster here at Hogwarts, and before we begin the feast we have prepared for you today I have a few things I would like to go over. Firstly, the Forbidden Forest is still forbidden as the name suggest, so I would not recommend going in there if you feel like breaking the rules because we have still to find the swarm of Blast-Ended Skrewts that escaped in there at the end of last year." A few of the older students who remembered the disastrous Care of Magical Creatures lesson from the year previously laughed. Professor McGonagall went through a few more annual and mandatory announcements which Rose had heard so many times she could probably quote the familiar woman at the front of the Great Hall with ease. "Lastly, I would like to introduce you to your new Head Boy and Girl. Please rise Scorpius Malfoy and Rose Weasley."

With a sigh Rose stood up, meeting eyes with Scorpius across the tables and glaring at him, as the Great Hall exploded in whispers, each person who spoke questioning Professor McGonagall's motives in choosing Rose - the Gryffindor Whore - as their Head Girl. Once the hubbub and the annual feast was over Professor McGonagall gave a quick farewell before allowing everyone to go to their common rooms and get a good night sleep before the next day when lessons would begin.

"Could I speak to you for a moment, Miss Weasley?" Rose froze where she stood and watched Professor McGonagall with a curious expression. She beckoned for Rose to follow her away from the crowds of people that parted around them. With a shrug, the Gryffindor girl followed the Headmaster to the professor's table at the front of the room.

A few professors came over and congratulated Rose on becoming Head Girl. Neville Longbottom had given her a hug and ordered that she come see him for a real celebration at her earliest convenience, promising Professor McGonagall that everything they would be doing - binging on Honeyduke's sweets and coffee Rose assumed - was perfectly legal.

"How can I help you?" Rose put on a charming smile and shoving her hands into the pockets of her robes, worry building up within her at why Professor McGonagall wanted to speak to her.

"I just wanted to reassure you of something, Rose." She said simply, giving Rose a warm smile. "I know that there is going to be people who are not happy with my choice of Head Girl and I know why, but I don't believe what they say. I chose you because I know you the best for this job, Rose. Don't let anything think that you don't deserve it because you do. Okay?"

"Thank you, Professor." The older woman smiled at Rose, who pressed her lips together awkwardly. She placed a reassuring hand on Rose's shoulder.

"Don't let me down now, okay, Rose."

Rose nodded simply. "May I go now, Professor?"

With a single firm nod, Professor McGonagall allowed Rose to leave. She spun on her heel and quickly marched out of the Great Hall, head held deliberately high as she felt the interested gazes of her professors linger on her.


	2. Screen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm standing in front of you,  
> I'm trying to be cool,  
> Everything together trying to be so cool.  
> We're broken,  
> we're broken  
> we're broken,  
> we're broken people, oh."  
> \- Screen (Twenty One Pilots)

"Rose! I didn't get a chance to see you yesterday." Rose looked up from her trunk where she sat on the ground, met with the familiar face of Joan Swanson. The other three girls Rose reluctantly shared a dormitory with had already left for the morning, chatting animatedly about things beyond Rose;  _relationships_.

Joan Swanson was nice enough, however. She was a tall and curvy girl with straight brown hair that fell to her shoulder and a kind face. She smiled at almost everyone she met. Out of all the girls, Rose shared a dorm with Joan was the most present. The only issue was that she was dating Hugo, Rose's brother.

"How was your summer?" Joan smiled.

"Lacking." Was all Rose said. She returned her attention to her trunk where she was trying to find her red and gold tie. And failing. She slammed the trunk closed and swore under her breath, cursing whatever deity she could think of at the time.

"I think your cat has your tie." Joan pointed at Rose's bed where a small grey kitten (he was two years old, so not technically a kitten but Rose always called him one) was playing happily with a red tie, pulling it along the bed and attacking it with his paw like it was a moving animal. Rose stood up and took the tie from him, running her fingers through the cat's soft fur before tying the tie in a lazy knot around her neck. "Hugo told me you locked yourself away from society over this summer. Is everything okay with you?"

"Are you asking this because you care or because it will give you brownie points for next time you want to have sex with my brother?" Rose asked monotonously. Joan's round hazel eyes widened and her jaw dropped in feigned offence, but she said nothing. Joan was a good girlfriend for Hugo, Rose had always thought. But in the seven years that Rose had shared a dormitory with the girl she had slowly begun to dislike her. Especially when she would talk about her 'dates' with Hugo.

"You'd better hurry or you'll be late for breakfast." With that Joan left the room, leaving Rose in the solace of solitude. Dante, her cat, nuzzled against Rose's hand for attention, which Rose happily provided the young cat.

"My life's a cliche, Dante," Rose muttered to the cat, curling her index finger around his ear and moving it the way he liked. He let out a soft purr and rubbed his head against the finger. "Don't forget it, okay? All this-" She gestured around her. Dante's large blue eyes followed Rose's hand. "- is the makings of a bad teen novel. Or a terrible rom-com anime."

Dante meowed at her, eyes shining bright with understanding.

"Good." Rose stood and brushed off her trousers and picking up her messenger bag from the foot of her bed. "Stay away from my Chocolate Frogs and don't terrorize Meg's cat today, Dante. Or she is going to kill me." Dante blinked owlishly at her. "See you later." The cat let out a soft mew as Rose walked away, slamming the door shut tightly behind her.

The Great Hall was, as usual, buzzing with life as Rose entered, silent and unnoticed by the mass of students running around excitedly. Rose sunk into an empty space at the Gryffindor table and began to fill a plate with random food; toast, eggs, and sausages.

"Hey, Weasley." An unfamiliar figure - a Ravenclaw boy with dark hair pulled messily in a small ponytail - walked almost silently towards Rose and sunk in the seat next to here. "How's the porn career going?"

Rose turned to him, expressionless. "Swimmingly." She answered flatly, unamused. "How's the STD treating you?" The boy opened his mouth, gaping as his friends burst out in laughter around him. Rose rolled her eyes and waved a hand loosely in the boy's direction, dismissing him.

Mornings like that - where people notice and purposely try to bother her for a reaction - were not uncommon to Rose. Since the rumors of her life had started people had come to her, asking questions they most likely knew weren't actually true to see how she reacted. At first, Rose would scream at them, demanding to know where they heard it from and deny it for all it was worth. But Rose soon learned that reacting the way they wanted didn't help. And thus her outwardly apathetic personality was born.

She relied on her facade more than she relied on another person at Hogwarts. She trusted her expressionless face and dead eyes more than she would trust her cousins with information of how she really felt.

Every now and then her cousins or even her brother would come up to her and see how she was, ask her what she was doing in her free time or even ask if she wanted to hang out. But Rose always denied it, always told them her time was dedicated solely to her studies. In truth, Rose didn't study that often. She had a natural intelligence, one that most people would kill for. So studying wasn't an issue until the end of year exams came near.

* * *

Rose was used to the questions and rumours. Well, as used to them as one could be when they were a teenager.

Rose's first day back at Hogwarts wasn't as bad as she had expected. Her lessons were mostly tame; uninteresting and uneventful. It wasn't until her last lesson of the day that she even noticed the person next to her.

"Why the hell are you sitting next to me, Malfoy?" Rose asked the blonde-haired boy beside her. Scorpius turned to her, eyes smiling as a grin worked its way onto her face. Around them the class buzzed excitedly as they moved from seat-to-seat, the anticipation of the day being over engrained into their minds. Who doesn't get excited when their teacher lets them move and take up ten minutes of the lesson?

"Didn't you listen to a word Professor Cryn said, Rosie, dear?" The teasing tone in his voice made Rose narrow her eyes at him. Scorpius took her expression with a grin.

"Does it sound like I did?"

"Seating plan," Scorpius explained, taking his textbook and parchment back out of his bag. Rose watched him with curiosity. He looked calm, blase as if the fact that the gaze of the entire class was on them, whispers of their peers concerning only them. But Scorpius didn't seem to notice. "We're more advanced than the advanced so we get to be desk-buddies."

Rose dipped her head forward and spoke to the Slytherin boy in a low tone. "I swear to Merlin, Malfoy,. If you are shitting me and are sitting here with the sole intention of pissing me off I am going to rip off your dick and shove it down your throat."

"Feeling oddly violent this afternoon are we, Rosie, dear?" Scorpius asked. Rose felt her lips tighten into a firm line and she turned away from Scorpius and towards the Potions teacher, Professor Cryn, in hopes that the man could offer her slight solace from the boy beside her. Of course, no such luck. "How's your first day been? Sucked many dicks?"

"Why, jealous?" Rose retorted almost as soon as the words left Scorpius' mouth, eyes locking onto his in anger. "Want me to suck your dick? 'Cause I can schedule you in for maybe seven this evening. Being the resident whore takes up a lot of free time so I'll have to double check."

His gaze made her skin crawl. For a prolonged moment, Rose thought he was seriously considering it. His brows were furrowed, deep in thought as his half-lidded eyes scanned Rose's expression for Merlin knows what.

"Why do you hate the word 'whore' so much?" He asked. His voice was soft, face confused. "It's only a name they call you, it means nothing. Why does it bother you?"

"Because I'm not a whore, Malfoy." Rose felt tired. Normally she would come up with a witty remark, one that would follow with either a condescending or demeaning comment from the Slytherin boy.

"I know a few of you angst-ridden teenagers are displeased in my choice of partners for each of you, but I don't actually care." Professor Cryn's eyes seemed to rest of Rose and Scorpius. Rose narrowed her eyes at him and rolled her eyes. "You will stay in these partners unless I decide you no longer work well together. That's it. No amount of begging or bribery, Miss Weasley-" He looked at Roxanne, who grinned widely at her peers. She met Rose's eyes and nodded in approval, earning her a roll of the eyes from her cousin. "- will convince me to swap partners. Now, let's begin our lesson."

* * *

Is something bothering you, Rose?" Rose looked up from the mug of coffee that rested now cold in between her entwined fingers and up towards the man that sat before her, liquorish wand hanging out of the side of his mouth as he rummaged through Rose's not-so-secret stash of Honeydukes sweets.

Rose forced a smile onto her face and grabbed for a random sweet. "'Course not, Uncle Neville." The Herbology professor looked dubious. "Why'd you ask?" She put the jellybean in her mouth and grimaced at the meaty flavour that invaded her taste buds.

"You have been here for almost an hour and have only said something witty twice." Neville shrugged and took Rose's coffee from her hands. "And this is cold and still in the mug. Usually, you would have  _inhaled_ the coffee."

"Perhaps I realised nine in the evening is not a suitable time to ingest a foolish amount of caffeine while contemplating why I am alone eating sweets with my Herbology professor." Neville shook his head which a chuckle and muttered a heating spell under his breath. Rose accepted the coffee with a smile and took a sip of its bitter contents. "I'm just a little pissed that I got stuck with Malfoy in potions. Again."

"Yikes," Neville said over his own coffee. Rose said nothing but nodded with her lips against the mug.

Since finishing potions hours previously Rose had felt as if her impending doom had been publicly announced. Everyone's gazes made her feel more uneasy and her skin tingled uncomfortably at the thought that they were talking about it. It was a feeling Rose thought she had gotten used to, but plagued her as if she were in the first few months of those rumours once again.

"Are you sure this has nothing to do with those colourful rumours I have been hearing about you, Rose?"

"I am ninety-eight percent sure you are not supposed to be listening to rumours,  _Professor_." Rose tried to remain playfully hard-faced as she kept her gaze on Neville's eyes, but the cock of his brow made Rose inhale deeply.

"Oh, you know that's not true," Neville spoke casually, but Rose could see the smile tugging on his lips. It was rare to see him so sarcastic. "McGonagall is all for the rules and that woman  _loves_ a good gossip about rumours." Neville smiled as if he knew she would break from there. She would, of course. The inhale was always her tell.

"I guess being back here is reminding me of how shitty it is to have people notice me again. It's a bit overwhelming. I'm alright though, promise."

"You know I don't believe that, Rose." Neville always spoke to Rose in a soft voice when they were alone, the same tone Rose had heard him speak to his own daughter in when she was upset. "It upsets me to see you resent Hogwarts this much, Rose. I loved it when I was here and to see you so withdrawn from the magic of it... I think if your parents knew they would hate to see you dislike it so much."

Rose puffed up her cheeks and let a wet breath out loudly. "Well,  _that_ took a turn for the emotional. We're practically menopausal women crying over our issues." She shook her head and downed the dregs of her coffee. "Enough of my angsty teenager bullshit. How's Hannah?" It was classic Rose once again, changing the conversation when she thought it was focusing too much on her, on her feelings. Neville either didn't care about the conversation change or didn't want to fight Rose on it. He began retelling stories of what he, his wife and children had gotten up to during the summer. Rose grabbed a liquorish wand and began to nibble on it idly while Neville spoke, head in her mind once again.

When the clock read quarter past ten in the evening Rose almost audibly groaned. It was bad enough that she had to leave the solace Neville's office offered her when she felt so at ease, but she also had to go do prefect duties. With Scorpius. And was late. By fifteen minutes.

She reluctantly packed up her sweets (much to the dismay of the Herbology professor who told her he had hoped she left the sweets on the table) and downed the dregs of her coffee before beginning the path back to the castle. She was supposed to meet Malfoy by the Transfiguration classrooms, but he had made it very clear that if she wasn't on time he would leave without her.

A part of Rose wished the pompous Slytherin had waited for her for bragging rights, but when Rose arrived at the Transfiguration corridor she found it to empty apart for a couple that flinched away from each other when Rose's lit wand hovered over them. Rose sent them back to their dormitories with a warning. She could be nice sometimes.

"I do believe snogging in the corridors after hours does actually qualify as detention and not 'just go', Weasley."

"Well aren't you suddenly the biggest hypocrite person in this school." Rose rolled her eyes as she muttered the words. She tried to ignore the bitterness in her tone, avoiding Scorpius' eyes to prevent herself from saying more than that. From going on a tangent, as her mother said she often did.

Scorpius clicked his tongue and walked to her rise. "You'd know about hypocrites, wouldn't you?"

Rose glanced over Scorpius and began to walk down the corridor. "I do believe you should shut the hell up before I punch you, Malfoy." The sound of footsteps behind her alerted her that Scorpius was following her. "I thought you weren't waiting if I was late. Yet here you are."

"I wasn't waiting." Scorpius' tone was collected unlike Rose's, which was clearly annoyed at the Slytherin boy. Rose walked in front of him, not looking back even as he spoke. Every now and then she would shine her lit wand every-so-slightly behind her to see Scorpius looking at her, but she said nothing. "I've done the first route once already. You are  _very_ late, Weasley."

"Why can't we do prefect duties alone?"

"Because if someone decides to jump you and get a bit frisky I can be there to protect you," Scorpius said as if the answer were simple. Rose stopped in her tracks and shook her head.

"Of course, because everyone is trying to get into my pants to you, isn't it?"

"That is not what I meant, Rosie, dear." The words sounded sarcastic, but tone sincere. Rose ignored the action as if her life depended on it. She began to walk down the corridor without another word. "Seriously, Rose. I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Weasley-"

Rose spun on her heel, wand pointed up at Scorpius. The action might have seemed volatile, but it was clear by the lack of fight in her eyes that it was an empty gesture. "Let's just make this  _slightly_ bearable for both of us and do our prefect duties in silent."

Scorpius nodded once in response. Rose made a content noise with a firm nod and pushed past the door of an open classroom, poking her head in. Scorpius opened his mouth from behind Rose. The Gryffindor girl shook her head at him warningly.

Throughout the walk around the castle, Rose tried to ignore the boy walked beside her. She kept her gaze ahead even as he hummed under his breath and chuckled when Rose stumbled, even as he looked over at her every now and then and looked as if he was about to say something only to shut his mouth a moment later.

When Rose finally arrived back at the Gryffindor dormitory she was ashamed to admit how tired she was having prided herself on her ability to make it to three in the morning earliest without feeling tired. But as soon as she saw her bed she couldn't help but collapse against the soft mattress and allow sleep to pull her into its sweet embrace.


	3. Fast Car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Managed to save just a little bit of money  
> Won't have to drive too far  
> Just 'cross the border and into the city  
> You and I can both get jobs  
> And finally see what it means to be living"  
> \- Fast Car (Tracy Chapman)

Rose often thought about how different things would be if she had never dated Dylan Brown or Marcus Finnigan or Carl DeFoe or Spencer Jefferies. She wondered if she would still be excited to go back to Hogwart. She wondered if she would still talk to her family. She wondered if she would still be happy.

Because she realised within the first week of her fifth year that she wasn't happy any more. It wasn't like she was depressed. She never thought about killing herself or she was pretty sure that she was okay with her general existence. But she knew that she was sad and it was a constant reminder deep in her bones and with every step forward she could hear the creak of her joints reminding her that the sadness was an ever-present  _thing_  her life.

She doubted she would ever get out of the perpetual cycle wheel of sadness that turned around her. She didn't even try anymore.

* * *

Rose watched as the crowd of teenagers flocked around her younger cousin, surrounding her with questions flying off their tongues without a second of hesitation. Lily took it in her stride, smiling and laughing and answering questions with a flick of her hair. Lily was always happy when all the attention was on her, even when they were children. She would often put on ballet preformences for her parents and their friends when she was younger to ensure that she was the center of attention during family gatherings.

A few people walked to her other cousins - Albus or Roxanne or Lucy - and asked what all the commotion about. Lucy would boast about her cousin's success, Roxanne would be sarcastic and Albus would began to rant about innocence and virtue. Nothing was different with them. Everything that was different was with Rose.

No one asked her, but some people clearly wanted too. They watched her from their groups, whispering for someone else to go ask. But no one did. Rose's cousins didn't speak to her either, didn't even tell her what all the commotion was about. Rose had to find out from her brother's girlfriend. Lily had been interviewed a few weeks before by Daily Prophet. It was normal for them - children of great war heroes like the Potters and Weasleys - to get interviewed by several newspapers and magazines. Whether they liked it or not (and Rose did not) they were famous in the Wizarding World.

The Daily Prophet took a liking to Lily when they took her picture and give her the option of becoming a permanent model for their company. Lily accepted in a heartbeat.

"Why are you looking so longingly at your much more successful cousin, Rosie, dear?" Scorpius flopped down beside Rose without introducing himself, without a greeting. Rose rolled her eyes and looked at the Slytherin boy as he took a slice of toast from her plate and chewed on it contently.

"This is the Gryffindor table, Malfoy." She reminded him, knocking on the oak table before her. Scorpius cocked up and eyebrow and took another bite. "Are you lost?"

"Your cousin, Weasley." Rose pushed her plate towards him. He gave her a charming smile (forced and sarcastic... It made Rose want to punch him) and took the food.

"I was just wondering when my cousins - not just Lily, but all of them - became so oddly mature. It's not so unlike me to feel nostalgic, is it? Wistful of the good ol' days when they were a bit more naive and predictable."

"The Potter girl taking the modeling job was predictable."

"I know," Rose agreed, looking over at her cousin talking animatedly to a group of girls, hands flying around her face as a wide smile dominated her expression. "But she's still not. None of them are are more."

"And neither are you." Scorpius grinned, eyes crinkling at the edges as he did so. Rose tried not to look at his eyes, but it was hard not to. Eye contact always seemed to personal to Rose, to intimate to share with anyone, her own parents included. But it was hard not to look at the silver orbs Scorpius possessed, bright and enchanting even when he was being crude and blunt.

He pushed the empty plate away from him and turned so he was straddling the bench sidewards, his entire body facing Rose's. "Can I copy your Potions essay?"

"I haven't done it yet." Rose closed the book that was open, forgotten in front of her and pulled her messenger bag onto her lap. She could feel Scorpius watching her curiously as she packed her book away and rose to her feet. His gaze made her skin burn as if he had the power of the sun in his eyes. Rose tried not to squirm under the gaze, instead shoving her bag between them.

"Really?" He sounded dubious. "You seem like the type of person who gets it done the day it's handed to you."

"I haven't done it. I usually do my work last minute." Rose finally turned back to him, waiting for him to dismiss the conversation with a remark that would make Rose want to punch him, but he shrugged and took a sip of Rose's forgotten orange juice.

"Shocking," He saif flatly. "You are actually very much unlike your mother."

"Well, I'm not her so it makes sense." Rose shot him a forced smile and walked away, bag swinging on her shoulder as she marched hurridly through the large oak doors.

There was never an escape.

At home she was questioned about her life, about her undecided future. She was, for lack of a better word, shoved aside for her brother who knew where he wanted to go in life and how he was going to get there. She was held at arms length during events, alone and without the friends she had long since given up on. At Hogwarts she was talked about and stared at. There was no escape from the words and the rumours and the laughter and the glares and the gazes and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that pressed down on her chest. And, worst of all, there was never an escape from Scorpius Malfoy. He was there, ready to ridicule her and ready to question her. He was there to point out her obscure behaviour, to laugh at her whenever the opportunity presented itself and to add an unspeakable bout of anxiety to her already astonishing high perturbation.

She could hide in her dormitry only for so long until she had to leave. She could hide in the herbology rooms until Neville told her she had to go. She could hide in the library until Madame Pinch would tell her it was curfew. There was never a permement solace for her. And she desperately longed for the solitude no one could intude on.

The Room of Requirements worked for a few months until Albus and Louis remembered about it and began taking their partners in there for what they called 'sexy times'. From the moment Louis stumbled in with his boyfriend at the time, shirtless and in the 'throws of passion' as Rose had told Hugo, she refused to use that room as her sanctuary any longer. The thoughts of what had happened in there, the unimaginably filthy events were enough to keep Rose out.

It was around about that time that she decided once she was done with school she would leave; go find her own solace somewhere other then England or Scotland or Wales or Ireland. Cliche, was what her mother called it. Unrealistic and childish. But Rose didn't care. She thought of the car her grandfather bought her and the urge to just leave grew within her.

If there was no escape she would create one.

But it would be months until she could run to that escape. She just had to endure everything and ignore people. She had to pretend she was okay and not let anyone know what she was thinking. She just had to survive through the next few months and then she would be free. And happy.

* * *

Rose wasn't sure whether it was because none of her peers wanted her to participate or if it was because being Head Girl was a lot easier than she had first anticipated but very little happened during prefect meetings and her prefect duties with Scorpius Malfoy. She went to the meetings and walked the corridors, but said almost nothing in both enviroments. People seemed content with just letting her sit there as Scorpius took over the meetings, giving out jobs and ensuring people were following school conduct. When she was doing her prefect duties with Scorpius he said little to her, allowing her to remain her usual brooding self without needing to worry about him talking to her.

Nonetheless the silence was almost liberating. The people grew tiresome, so any small break Rose could have from them was one she cherished. She knew that to think she could escape people indefinitely was foolish, but it was still a dream she held on to. She could be free from their attention until they noticed her again.

Neville frowned when she told him this.

"No one should feel like that, Rose." He had told her. Rose shrugged over her coffee. "I'm serious, Rose."

"No one should be made to feel like they are so victimised by their teacher that they were afraid of them." Rose countered. Neville narrowed his eyes at his goddaughter. "But you felt like that right. Dad told me about your lesson with Teddy's father, how your boggart was Snape. I bet you felt like I did at some time during your time at Hogwarts; like you wanted to fade into the walls and avoid everyone and their whispers and judgements."

Neville remained silent for a long moment. "I did feel like that," he admitted. "A lot, actually. And I hated it."

"Guess I just have thicker skin than you." Rose grinned. Her teacher said nothing. He just picked up a liquorish wand from the pile of sweets in the center of them and chewed on the tip of it thoughtfully. Rose knew the conversation wasn't over. They had simply just dropped it for now. Rose stood up. "I'm gonna love you and leave you, Uncle Neville. See you tomorrow."

Rose walked quickly out of the herbology greenhouses. If she was careful she could avoid seeing many people.

As she darted through corridor after corridor - up staircase after staircase - Neville's words wouldn't leave her head. How else was she supposed to feel when everything began to wear down on her to the point she felt as if she was suffocating? She wasn't even a month into the seventh year and Neville's words bubbled in her chest.

It hurt. Thinking physically  _hurt;_ her head, her chest, her limps... Everything felt tight and heavy as if she were a rubber band at it's limit, ready to snap at the smallest pressure. And the pressure was forever building up because everyone was always whispering about her and Rose was sure that if her picture appeared once more in the Daily Prophet then she would just  _snap._ Not that she could allow herself to break. She had other people to think about; her mother, her father, her cousins. She had to have courage to be the eccedentesiast she was sure she would be forever.

Rose was sure that she wasn't supposed to be a Gryffindor.  _"I'm way to selfish and cowardly,"_ She had told Albus one night when she was twelve. They were staying up late at the Potters, hidden under a fort they had spent all day building and decorating with pillows and little flames in a jar that Rose's mother had made. Albus didn't say anything. Rose could remember his silence as clear as day because that was the first time she felt the pull at her heart because he had just ignored her when she sat up for hours listening to all his secrets.

Courage is similar to fear. They both make your heart burn and pound painfully against your ribcage. They are both hard to push past and to tell people about. They both surround you in a bubble of learning. But unlocking the door to see the similarities was something that you had to be Gryffindor enough to see; you have to have courage to face your fears. That's whats Rose struggled with. Getting over the fear by confronting her courage, by not hiding away and cutting herself off.

It was painful to think about.

By the time she got to the Gryffindor common room and snuck past the crowds of rowdy teens clad in crimson and gold Rose's head was throbbing with thoughts. Too much  _what ifs_ and too little emotions. That always seemed to be the case with Rose. Never equal, always unbalanced.

She flopped back onto her bed. Dante jumped up from where he was laying on her pillow and ran around the dorm. When he was sure that there was no danger - or at least none outside of Rose - he climbed back onto the bed and curled up on Rose's stomach. She began to scratch his ear the way he liked. His purrs were almost soothing against her aching body. So she laid there, content as the doors of the dormitory blocked out the sounds of everything happening down the marble staircase with only the Dante's purring to fill the blissful silence.

* * *

"Rose!" A loud voice disrubted Rose from her nap and sent Dante flying off her chest and under her bed. Rose sat up just enough to look over at the doorway where Joan stood with two more of the people they shared a dorm with. Rose let her head hit the pillow with an unsatisfyed thud.

"We didn't see you come up." Hannah Clarkton said. Her bed was beside Rose's. She sunk down and crossed her legs, her bed facing Rose. Megan Brown followed in and sat beside her best friend.

Rose smiled tensely. "That was the idea, my dear."

"Rose, can we talk?" Joan asked stiffly. Rose sighed deeply and sat up. Her headache was back, banging against her head as if on a mission to escape her skull. At least if her brain did somehow manage to break free from her head she wouldn't have to deal with the seemingly neverending pain that vibrated through it. Rose gestured for Joan to take a seat on the end of her bed. Joan moved slowly, but sat down anyway.

Rose had always tried her hardest not to be too rude to her dorm-mates. After all, she would have to share that room with them for her entire time at Hogwarts. Getting on their bad side would make even trying to sleep unbearable and, seeing as sleep was about the only solace she got, Rose refused to let herself get that petty.

They didn't talk much. Just little comments here and there. Joan would sometimes ask for advice about Hugo and Rose would reply with the most simple answer she could think of. Hannah would sometimes ask for her advice on her outfit, which Rose usually just shrugged at. Megan would more often than not curse Rose's cat for terrorising her own cat.

They never asked to talk.

"How can I help you?" Rose tried not to sound too bored or annoyed. Hannah and Meg shared a quick look and immediately Rose tensed. That didn't seem like a good sign.

"We're just... concerned about the rumours we're hearing about you," Joan said cautiously. Rose nodded once. "I mean, we're always hearing all these wild stories and obviously we don't want to believe them."

"Do you?"

Joan furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"Do you believe the rumours?" Rose clarified. Joan tugged her messy brown locks and scrunched up her face for a long moment. No one said anything. Hannah and Megan continued to look between each other and the two girls on Rose's bed.

"I'm... unsure about what to believe." Joan said, her voice echoing through the silence like a bullet. Too loud, too quick, too sudden. Rose blinked owlishly. "No one really knows you, Rose. So when people say things like this - when people question what your up to and who your into - it makes it hard to not be doubtful about everything you hear. I want to help you, Rose. Not for your sake or mine, but for Hugo's. But I can't do that when you keep shutting us out and not telling us anything about you."

"Fine." Rose shrugged. She sat back on her bed and watched the girls before her. "Ask me whatever. Get to know me. But after today there are no more questions. It will go back to normal and I will continue to be an enigma to you."

That seemed to pique their interests. Rose guessed they hadn't actually expected her to want to give information away. But, hey, if it was just putting a few rumours to rest it wasn't going to kill. It wasn't like they were suddenly going to become best friends, walking through the castle with linked arms and wide smiles on their face. Rose waited until the shock dulled from their face and realisation sunk in.

At first, they just asked the normal stuff, questioned the most common rumours Rose heard about herself. What was her sexuality? Why was she avoiding people? Was she actually part veela? Rose answered bluntly. She didn't elaborate when they asked her two. She just answered as shortly as she could and left them to ask question after question.

She wondered why they cared so much. What was so interesting about her life that everyone felt the need to comment on it? _Probably mum and dad's fault,_ Rose thought to herself. After all, when your parents are two of the most famous wizards in the history of magic-kind it was kind of expected that you would be in the limelight. Rose just didn't see why her peers - who she had known for seven years - were so intrigued by the ongoings of her life.

Rose wasn't that interesting.

"Are you actually getting it on with Scorpius Malfoy?" Megan asked, voice drifting off as she asked what felt like the millionth question. Rose snorted and all the other girls were brought back to full attention.

"Please," Rose said, discontentedly. "I''m not into shaking up with people, much less with a pompous asshat like Malfoy."

"He's not that bad," Hannah said. Rose shrugged. Enough said about that. She didn't want to think about Scorpius until she had to see him in potions the next day. But now that it was brought to her attention, where the hell did  _that_ rumour come from?


	4. Heavy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm holding on  
> Why is everything so heavy?  
> Holding on  
> So much more than I can carry  
> I keep dragging around what's bringing me down  
> If I just let go, I'd be set free"  
> \- Heavy (Linkin Park)

_Minister of Magic and war hero Hermione Granger-Weasley discusses her experience with motherhood and dealing with teenagers!_  
Granger-Weasley states that raising children is "an experience no one is prepared for". Reporter for the Daily Prophet, Dianne Brown, had a chance to talk to the Minister of Magic about her children, Rose and Hugo Granger-Weasley who are currently in their seventh and fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
"It's something they never tell you about having teenagers, how difficult it is." Minister Granger-Weasley said. "Hugo is easier. He just understands people, he's social and certain of what he wants. Rose... it's not that she is a tough kid to raise. She's just very different from her brother. She's an island unto herself and thats the way she likes it. I don't think there's a person alive that can get into her head and relate to her. I certainly can't."

Rose slammed the newspaper onto the table, the corners landing in the bowl of the person besides her. He turned to Rose, annoyance of having parchment in his milk clear but Rose's eyes narrowed at him and he turned away. Great. Good. Let the little coward turn away and enjoy his ink-infused cereal. He probably deserved it! She could feel eyes other than her Daily Prophet victim on her skin; the burning and itching seemed to sink deeper. Her bones ached with the weight of their gazes.

It was two days. Two days of freedom from their whispers. Two days of freedom from their judgements. Two days without feeling like complete and utter shit.

Why did her mother say that?! 'An island unto herself'? What did that even mean? It felt like her head was about to explode.

Rose stood up and left before she snapped at someone else, storming through the corridors until she was stood outside the Transfiguration classroom. At least the corridor was empty. No more people staring icy daggers into her skin for a few more minutes. She couldn't deal with that right now, thoughts of what her mother had told the Daily Prophet about her weighing her down.

See, the thing is parents don't realise how much they damage their children. They look at their family and see it how it truly is; either good with happy memories that leave happy glows in the hearts of children, or bad with thoughts that leave children feeling empty like their soul had been clawed away from through their throat. Parents don't see the way that they do affects children. They just see how it changes their family. They see the blood-tie and imagine that there is no way that a good and caring mother like Hermione Granger-Weasley could ever have such a negative effect on her daughter's everyday life that Rose was left feeling hollow and heavy; like a piece of paper covered in dark smudges.

Rose could only wish her mother understood the effect that her words had on Rose. But no, she didn't. How could she when Rose acted like everything was okay? There was no way for her to know. And that thought terrified Rose more than anything. If her mother couldn't help her who could?

Possibly the answer was Professor McGonagall, who stared at Rose as the Gryffindor girl leaned against the cold stone and trapped herself away in her thoughts. Rose smiled at the headmaster.

"Would you like to come in, Miss Weasley?" Rose shrugged but entered the room anyway, walking towards her desk and taking a seat. At first McGonagall busied herself, using her wand to write on the chalkboard and to sort out pieces of parchment on her desk. Rose tried to think when she first realise parents are toxic as she watched her Transfiguration professor move around her classroom contently.

Perhaps it was when she heard stories about Walburga Black and how she would abuse Harry Potter's Godfather, Sirius Black. Maybe it was then when she realised that a parents love isn't unconditional like everyone had told Rose when she was younger and when she heard about how Sirius - who was related to her in everything but blood, Harry used to say - would do anything to escape his mother's tyranny. Maybe it was when she realised that seeming like you love your children is out of selfish interest.

Perhaps it was when she saw how her Aunt Fluer began to treat Louis differently when he told her that he was gay. Sure, she still loved him - there was that  _unconditional love,_ if you want to believe that. Maybe it was when she saw that Fluer would snap at him more and not talk to him about his future. Or when Rose saw the scars on her cousins wrists which he would try to hide under long-sleeve t-shirts and sweaters. Maybe it was when he couldn't accept himself all because his mother's eyes weren't as warm as they used to be.

Perhaps it was when when she opened up her copy of the Daily Prophet and saw her mother - the woman that was supposed to love and support her and show her unconditional love - said that she didn't understand her daughter. Maybe it was when the words were clear that Rose was alone and that there wasn't anyone in her corner, that everything around her was vacant and cold. Uncaring and unloving. Hating and helpless.

Rose was brought back out of her thoughts when McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Is something bothering you, Rose?" She asked, tone dripping of indifference but her eyes telling another story. There was a glimpse of something Rose was too afraid to see as anything beyond mild curiosity behind her square glasses.

Rose smiled plastically. "What makes you think that, Professor?"

"I have seen a lot of troubled students in my time, Miss Weasley," McGonagall told her sharply, before her gaze dropped and she held up a copy of the Daily Prophet. "You're not a difficult breed to spot."

"Don't worry about me. I have tough skin."

"Undoubtably, but I recognise how what your mother said about you might bear down on your thoughts, Rose. Just keep in mind that if ever you wanted to talk there are people you can discuss things with."

"I already meet up with Neville to talk about my feelings," Rose said flatly. McGonagall peered down at her over her glasses but said nothing. Rose's skin squirmed at her gaze. "Thanks for your concern, I guess."

* * *

Rose had decided that someone was forcing people to talk to her. Firstly there was McGonagall, then Joan Swanson and Megan Brown who had all but questioned Rose in their down. And now Malfoy. Why else would Malfoy have actually waited for her during their prefect hours? Since the first round of walking around the castle making sure no one was up to no good they didn't really do their joined rounds together. Usually Scorpius would leave a note at their usual meet up place saying that Rose was taking too long and that he went off to do his own rounds. They would then meet up at the end, share notes to make sure Professor McGonagall didn't know they were splitting up and they both went on their merry way.

But when Rose got to their usual meeting place at the end of the Transfiguration classroom Malfoy was sitting on the floor reading. Rose kicked him in the leg and Scorpius flinched, his book falling out of his hand and onto his lap, closing shut. Scorpius muttered angrily about looking his page as he put his book away and rose to his feet.

"Any reason you're late, Weasley?" Scorpius crossed his arms over his chest.

"Pregnancy?" Rose answered flatly. For a moment the corridor was silent, but then Scoprius began to laugh. Not a small, exasperated kind of laugh, but a loud chortle that made Rose slightly uncomfortable. She took a step back and watched the Slytherin boy calm down. As he straightened up Rose took his appearance in.

He was looking more relaxed than Rose had ever seen him. His wihite-blonde hair was disheveled like he had ran his fingers through whatever hair products he put on it so it was more natural. His Hogwarts uniform was in a similar manner. His shirt was wide open, revealing a black vest top underneath and his tie was loose around his neck. Rose couldn't help but shiver.

"Like what you see, Weasley?" Scorpius licked his lower lip.

"Envying your testosterone." Rose scoffed, wrapping her cloak further around her lithe frame. "I'm fucking freezing and you're prancing around in just a vest top and your shirt like a dickhead." Rose was snuggled up under her cloak, sweater and shirt but she was still shivering like she was wearing nothing. Like Scorpius. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I believe we have hallways to patrol."

"You haven't waited for me every other time." Rose reminded him flatly. "Why start now?"

Scorpius didn't answer. Instead he picked up his messenger bag from the floor and began walking down the corridor. Rose hurried after him, each footstep sending out a loud noise that was easily alert anyone trying to misbehave so late at night. Scorpius didn't slow down and he didn't acknowledge Rose as she walked beside her. Instead they walked in silence, shining their light into every nook and corner of the castle.

Minutes stretched into an hour before Scorpius even opened his mouth.

"Weasley-"

"If this is going to be a personal conversations I'll stab you in the ovaries and sell them on the black market, Malfoy."

"Why would we talk about anything personal?" Scorpius turned to Rose, finally stopping in his tracks to look at her. Rose stopped too, looking at Scorpius with furrowed brows. His eyes were unnervingly clear, a pale blue that seemed to love to grey the higher his lit wand went.

Rose shrugged. "People are trying to talk to me about personal shit because of what my mother wrote in the Daily Prophet."

"I was just gonna ask if you'd done the work for Professor Cryn." Rose shook her head and continued to walk. It was a few seconds before Rose heard the Slytherin boy following her. "Are you gonna do it?"

"Chill, Malfoy. I'll do it and you'll still have time to steal some poor girls soul. "

Scorpius opened a broom closet and stuck his wand in the crack before closing it and turning to Rose. "I'll have you know I'm currently seeing someone No soul stealing for me."

"Just to clarify this person is real, right?"

"Of course, Weasley." Scorpius snarled. Rose grinned slightly. It was the small things such as annoying pomous assholes like Scorpius Malfoy that brought the slightest bit of hope to Rose's heart. It was fun to see how defensive boys got over small, trivial things.

"She knows you're dating right? This isn't against her will or in your head?" Rose continued to tease.

"She hasn't shut up about our relationship, actually."

"Need to get her some amour propre through artful prose to help her get over this cry for help. Who is she?"

"Ruby Crabbe."

Rose let out a very unattractive snort. "Ruby? Are you Hugh Hefner?"

Scorpius raised an eyebrow in response. Rose rolled her eyes. It seemed a pretty efficent system as they contiued to parole the castle, one of them making a forced comment into the thick silence that would be met with the same non-verbal responses. This was the type of communication Rose didn't mind; silent and passive-aggressive. She had mastered its art over her years at Hogwarts.

When they were finished walking around the castle, making sure there were no teenagers making out in corners, Scorpius simply bidded Rose  _adieu_ and walked back down towards the dungeons where they had finished their parole.

Rose snuck back into the Gryffindor as quietly as she could. There was no one in the common room despite it only being just after one in the morning. Usually her fellow Gryffindors would still be there, lounging on the armchairs in front of the fire or discussing Quidditch or doing last-minute homework. Rose didn't stick around, walking quietly up the staircase and into her dorm. Unfortunetly, there were still people awake there.

"You're back late, Rose." Hannah said curiously from where she sat on Joan's bed. The two of them looked like they were doing homework, but for all Rose knew they were writing a hit list or whatever teenagers like to write at one am.

"Yeah, I was busy converting small children too heathenism." Rose shrugged off her cloak and began to remove her shirt when she turned back to see the confused look on her dorm-mates faces. "I had prefect duty. Had to patrol the castle and all that exciting stuff."

"Oh." Was all the other girls said. Rose contiued to ignore them as she put on her pyjamas and got into her bed. She used her wand to pull the curtains shut tightly around her bed before using her wand to light up the small area. She could still hear Hannah and Joan talking about their Herbology essay and Megan's obnoxiously loud snoring, but they weren't being irritating enough for Rose to have to put a silencing charm around her.

Rose actually found the small noises rather calming. Silence was enveloping; thick and dark. She always thought of silence as the last tie that held her to the world. If that small tie broke where would she be but totally alone?

* * *

Rose decided two things in the following day: she needed to speak to Madam Longbottom despite how uncomfortable it made her when good old 'Aunt' Hannah did routine check-ups and she didn't like Quidditch enough anymore. She was stood along-side her the crowd of Ravenclaw's and whoever else was supporting them as before her the Ravenclaw vs Slytherin game kicked off the Quidditch season. Slytherin was in a short lead of 220-200 points, but Ravenclaw didn't seem to be going down without a fight.

It was a pretty intense game so far, but Rose couldn't be any less interested. She was tired and her entire body was shaking from the cold. Hardly any of the people around her seemed bothered by the chill in the air, but Rose was snuggled up under several layers and still her body was vibrating in a feeble attempt to warm her up. Worse of all her lips were tingling which was just annoying.

The sea of people didn't make it easier. They were all so closely packed together, elbows nudging Rose with every boisterous cheer they let out. It was almost suffocating, being completely surrounded with no clear line of escape. But Rose tried to ignore the knot in her stomach and tried to focus on the game before her, gnawing away at the skin on the inside of her cheek as a distraction.

Ravenclaw had just scored again, bringing the score to 230-220 in Slytherin's favour since Rose had last checked it when the Slytherin Seeker saw the quaffle. A tense moment took over the entire Quidditch stadium as both teams seekers were neck-to-neck with arms stretched before them in reach of the Golden Snitch. They were getting closer and closer to the ground, but in the last moment the Slytherin seeker pulled up. Everything was in favour of Ravenclaw right until the moment their seeker hit the ground and the snitch fluttered in the Sytherin seeker's hand. The sadium was almost silent, unsure whether to cheer until the Ravenclaw seeker was sat up by the referee and shown to be sort of okay.

Rose cheered feebily. Not because she cared about Quidditch, but because at least now she could go back inside and hide away by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Unfortunetly, the world was not that kind.

Hugo caught Rose's wrist just before she made up to the common room, pulling her aside.

"Rosie, can we talk?"

"You've already abducted me from witnesses so I suppose I'm inclined to say yes." Rose crossed her arms across her chest. Hugo bit his lip like he always did when he was nervous. It was clear he was trying to think of the right thing to say. Rose would know, of course. She knew her brother like the back of her hand; every little nervous tick and pet peeve. If it was about Hugo, Rose knew about it. Rose leaned against the wall when Hugo's eyes finally met hers once more.

"It's about what mum said to the Daily Prophet." Rose sighed irritatedly and Hugo immediately stopped talking.

"Seriously, Hugh. You think that's gonna bother me?" Hugo shrugged awkwardly and for a moment Rose was stuck for words. She looked at her younger brother and it hit her like a truck;  _it had been so long since they last spoke._ Hugo was looking older. His hair had been cut. He was taller. His robes fitted his shoulders better. Rose was sure that she wasn't supposed to notice sudden changes in her little brother, that people were supposed to tell her and she was supposed to shut them down sarcastically. But she just stared at Hugo in shock. How were they in the same house and Rose hadn't even noticed?

Apparently Rose's face wasn't as stony as she usually tried to make it because Hugo stared at her uncomfortably before Rose managed to shake the thoughts of how everyone was getting older and the inevitable demise of all of humanity was fast approaching.

I'm fine, Hugo." Rose reassured him, plastic smile in place. "Everyone says shit like that about me. It's true."

"Yeah, but mum shouldn't have said it."

"She couldn't have lied. Imagine the uproar if she said I was like you; a social butterfly with a charming attitude and a clean sense of humour and then someone broke the terrible secret that I am, in fact, a massive asshole to the Daily Prophet." Hugo blinked owlishly. "Mum's Minister of Magic, she has to be honest with people during interviews to keep up her public appearence and if during an interview someone asks about her kids-" Rose gestured between the two of them. "She must be honest and recant the tales of the Angel and the Shrew."

For a solid minute Hugo doesn't say anything. He just looks at Rose as if trying to read her expression, her body language, her mind. Who knows, but all his watching of her was begining to make Rose uncomfortable. Karma, she imagines for the way she stared at him five minutes ago. Maybe he was caught up in staring at the way his older sister had become the biggest liar in Hogwarts history, maybe even beating Tom Riddle for the title.

But then he exhaled loudly. "I just wanted to make sure what mum said didn't, I dunno, like make you sad or something? Mum sent me a letter and said she feels like shit and Joan told me-"

"Oh, please don't mention your girlfriend." Rose all but begged, hand pressed against her forehead dramatically like she used to do when she was a little kid. "If I have to be reminded of the fact you two are shagging I'll throw myself off the Astonomy Tower."

"Rose!" Hugo blushed as he shoved his sister. Rose broke out in laughter. Although msot of it was forced Rose was surprised by how much of it seemed to come out naturally. "I'm going now, you asshole!"

"Love ya too, Hugh!"


End file.
